Hairy Snout, Human Heart
by SorridoSole
Summary: The Remus Lupin story. disclaimer: I own nothing.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue. **

I will begin by saying that you will never discover my true identity, and though I am glad that you have taken an interest in my book, and the lives of lycanthropes, I hope not to be sought out, might it be for praise, or by an angry mob with flaming torches and pitchforks. And yes, I have been chased by an angry mob of villagers with flaming torches and pitchforks. I never wish to experience that again, so excuse me for not informing you about myself.

I am a werewolf.

I am well aware that about half of the readers of this book have just chucked it into the nearest fireplace. Let me continue.

I am a werewolf. But I never wished to be. And I am human 96% of the month. Perhaps more. I was never very good at math.

I was born in March of 1960, in a small wizarding-muggle village. My father was an apothecary, and a successful one at that. My mother abandoned her career as a muggle school teacher after my birth. As a child, I enjoyed the forests surrounding my home, examining astronomical phenomena with my father, who found astronomy amongst his favorite hobbies.

I was bitten on the Harvest moon of 1966. I remember nothing of the account, only that I awoke the next morning in St. Mungo's, hearing my parents being told that they should abandon me, and have me slaughtered and/or tested for the ministry. They refused, for which I am most grateful.

As years past, I found the condition to vary. It gave me the ability to climb the tallest trees, which I had only wished to climb before. I could jump from the second story window of my bedroom and land cleanly on my feet. I healed quickly. I was nocturnal, hence allowed to stay up as late as I wanted. Life seemed good, as I was a mere child.

The year came when magical schooling was to begin in most young wizards. This is where I found just how odd I was, even by lycan standards.

I was accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Never could I have imagined the burden my kind faces, until I entered those hallowed halls.

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"You're dead Lupin."

Remus turned to the shadowy figure, fuming.

"Am I? You would think that I would have stopped breathing or something."

"You know what? I don't like your tone."

Remus stepped forward, gripping his wand tightly in his steady hand.

"You know what James? I don't like your tone either."

James brandished his wand menacingly in Remus' face.

"You don't deserve mercy, you filthy wolf."

"Neither do you, filthy pureblood." Remus barred his teeth. The light of the torch lined hallway flickered across his face, highlighting his scars dramatically. "But I might just provide it if you leave me the hell alone."

"So that's it? You expect to walk away from this? I don't think so."

"Contrary to your belief Potter, you aren't a match for me. Unless we are to judge egos, in which case your's would win hands down."

"Don't you be snappy with me. I know what you are! One simple word, and you're out of here for good."

"Is that a promise?" he stepped closer still. His footsteps echoed across the cool stone "Or a threat?"

"Both. _Expelliarmus._"

Remus stood lazily, letting James take the wand straight from his hand.

"Giving up are you?" James raised an eyebrow.

"No. I don't really need my wand."

"Oh, so then you wouldn't mind if I-" He snapped the wand clean in half.

"James, do what you want. Its not going to change anything. You're still a bastard. But I don't blame you one bit. "

"Let's see you duel without any wand to save you, Wolf." He balanced out into a dueling stance. Remus mirrored him.

"If I beat you, you're out of here."

"If I beat you, you won't tell a soul."

"Deal. 1, 2, …….3!"

A flash of light, and James Potter awoke in the hospital wing three days later, Remus Lupin, looking entirely distressed, standing over him.

"You win." said James softly.

"No I didn't. I'm sorry." Remus left without another word.


	2. Chapter 2: the burden

**The Burden.**

Prejudice. Prejudice comes straight from ignorance and fear. It is right to fear us. Even I admit that, once a month or so, we lycanthropes are very dangerous. Fear is justified. But Prejudice is not. Ignorance is not. That is why I'm here. To tell you what you need to know.

If you see me taking an afternoon stroll, or pass me in the aisle of a grocer, I am human. You will see me as human. I will greet you with a smile, perhaps a nod of the head, and a meek "good day" or "good afternoon". You will judge me as a mild young man, sickly looking and tired. Someone who is perceptive will mention that I carry a burden.

I have had a good life, compared to my species counterparts. I was raised by my birth parents, and though we were not the most glorious of families, with the best income or upbringing, we survived with what we had, and grew stronger from what we didn't. Transforming into a great beast every few weeks isn't as great of a burden as one may expect. I have grown accustomed to waking on the floor of my basement, with no conscious memory of what happened hours before. This is no big problem. The problem is the prejudice we receive.

I am not a lazy man, for which I pride myself on. I have worked for the little that I have. I have worked for the little that I've lost. But if I ask to work in a wizarding establishment, I must display my condition. This is not difficult. I carry a passbook with me at all times, as regulated by law. I am branded on my wrist, as regulated by the old law. When I show these, I am promptly escorted off the premises.

That is not my burden. My burden is this, multiplied a hundred times over, and to every one of my kind. I was luck to receive an education. Most are denied it, or are too afraid to ask of it. When I mentioned a mob of angry villagers earlier, I was not joking. I was once living in a small wizarding hamlet in southern France, working as an English tutor and bartender at the local tavern. At this time, France did not find displaying breed necessary.

The young boy I was tutoring noticed my absence during the full moon. He was a child of quick wit, and a colorful imagination. He told his father immediately how he believed me a loup-garou, a werewolf. When his father confronted me, I refused to lie to the man. Later that night, I was chased out of town by his neighbors and family. The local sheriff banished me. If I ever return, there is a price on my head so large…. It is very large. I will leave it at that.

It was fear and ignorance that lead them to do such a thing. Fear that I would hurt them and their families. Ignorance, that I would not hurt them in conscious memory. I fell guilty for instilling fear like that into anyone. But it is my burden to bare.

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He walked casually towards the broken down pub, the only building for miles amongst treacherous hills and dirt roads. The fresh air heightened his mood. He hopped that, today, finally, he would get what he needed. The door creaked open, spilling light into the grey room. He walked directly for the man at the bar.

"hello sir, do you have any jobs available?" He smiled politely.

"And who the hell are you?"

Remus handed the scruffy looking man his passbook. He watched as the man's eyes scanned the paper quickly, glancing up at him, and then back to the paper once more.

"Get out before I call the authorities."

His heart sunk, but he did not let it show.

"Yes sir. Good day to you."

He turned quickly, and left, walking with his shoulders heavy from burden. Walking down the dirt road, he saw no other place for miles.

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	3. Chapter 3: the difference

**The Difference. **

Over my few years, I've met a small amount of lycanthropes similar to myself. The difference between myself and the others is frightening. The difference is dramatic. I believe the difference comes when a decision is made, and not when a bite is given.

When I was first bitten, I noticed changes in myself. Strength, speed, agility. All of these were enhanced. My eyes. They changed from the blue of my father to a threatening onyx. I could see through darkness for the first time. I could smell the scent of my parents, blanketing my home in a heavy mist. I neither accepted, nor denied what I had become. I was barely six years old. Though I understood too much for my age, I didn't understand that there was a choice.

If a human accepts the wolf, they will keep their gifts. They will be stronger. The wolf will help them. It will guide them. Transformations will be simple; as simple as embracing a friend after missing them for too long. It will be effortless, nearly painless, and a good experience for both human and wolf, to live in such a camaraderie.

When humans do not accept the wolf, but choose to be human, the wolf will tear them apart. Any gifts that were given by that wolf, their strength, sight, anything, will slowly be destroyed, or destroy them. The wolf needs to be embraced. It wants to be accepted by its host. If not, its anger will be the wrath brought upon you. The wolf is my parasite. I have grow weary of what it has done to me. My eyes are failing, so I can only just read the ink upon this page, much less see an attacker.

Perhaps, to everyone, werewolves are all the same. Bloodthirsty, immoral, wrong. But, I see the difference.

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A stunner shot past his ear in a flash of light, leaving an odd ringing through his head. He turned in an instant to face his opponent, but found them already upon him, foul breath so intense that it burned his nostrils. His vision focused slowly on his attacker.

"Lupin." Fenrir Greyback growled, his yellowing teeth bared with a teeming threat. Remus stepped back from the monster, but found that his fingernails were already digging into Remus' shoulder. He struggled away.

"Now Now Remy, why do you fight your own kind?" The voice, with its rough cracking and demonic growl had a façade of affection reserved only for him.

Remus felt his defensive magic build up in his hands, a sharp tingling of pressure as if his blood circulation was suddenly cut off. He fought to control it.

The beast whispered in his ear, holding him to the spot.

"You wouldn't fight your own breed, your own blood, would you? I don't think so."

Remus starred blurrily into the eyes of the man who he had so pitied for years. This was the man, the reason for all of his sorrow and worry. Why show mercy? He could kill him right where he stood. But then, Remus would be no better than Fenrir. No better than a murderer.

Remus positioned his wrist carefully, flexing his fingers. Fenrir had moved a hand closer to Remus' throat, ready to kill him at a second's notice. Taking a breath, Remus closed his eyes. Even in doing so, the golden power he released penetrated his eyelids. Spots appeared in his vision. He felt himself be dropped to the ground.

Greyback landed in a cloud of dust, motionless. Remus took at step forward, squinting to see Fenrir. Suddenly, the man rose to his feet, clutching his stomach. A scorch mark covered his abdomen. Remus didn't bother to raise his wand.

"I'll get you, Little Remy. You listen here. And when I do, you're as good as dead."

Fenrir raised his wand, and disappeared with a crack so loud it seemed to puncture Remus' eardrums. Remus turned, ready to face his next opponent as another curse shot past him.

Letting Greyback go. That was the difference.

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	4. Chapter 4: Luna's children

Here, I stray from the path I have followed thus far. Forgive me if I an incomprehensible. I will attempt to explain something that even I do not fully understand.

In the beginning, when life was simple, and when civil life was nonexistent, there were creatures. Fierce creatures, with beautiful fur, a howl that none shall mimic, and golden eyes that echoed their great gift in the sky. The gift, of course, was the moon. She is a beauty, and always was. Borrowing simple light from the underappreciated sun, she turns sunshine to a breathtaking glow. Luna, the moon goddess, is the light peering through the darkness.

She was worshipped by the Lupus in a cult of fascination and mystery. Evolution broke apart these moon lovers into two branches; Those who remained the wolves you see today, and those who felt the pull of human kind. Both share the love and fascination of their mother, but live eerily separate lives.

Once a month I howl to Luna, to tell her how I love her. I am her child, but I am no more than a puppet at times. You see, humans show few appreciation for her, and so, she must drag me to her in moments of pure agony and transformation. Wolves are her children. Humans who are of her kin are changed by her when she has the strength, that one day a lunar cycle when she is full of light. She is not angry at her were-children. She only wishes the best. Luna may be a twisted woman, but she protects like no other goddess can. For that reason, no one can be changed back once they are werewolves. Luna protects. She will not abandon her child once she has shown him love.

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Everyone believed Remus would not survive the night. Struck by an awful bout of dragon pox, fever raging, he was delicate enough without the moon close on his heels. Now, with the cycle just an hour away, they could only do one thing. Wrapped in James' favorite quilt, he was carried down through the Whomping Willow, shivering against winters horrid cold. Sirius and James flanked his sides, as did Madame Pomfrey. His father carried him.

They reached the house with a half hour to spare. Remus was barely conscious, his lips blue, and his face pale as death. Sirius cast a warming spell upon the bed in the Shrieking Shack's only habitable bedroom. They placed the dying boy upon his deathbed, praying for the impossibility that he would live to see the morning.

"Remus." his father bent down beside his son and grabbed his hand. "Be strong Remus. You're always so strong. Please be strong. You'll feel better soon, I promise….."

"Dad…" the word was barely a wisp on the boys lips.

"I'm here Remus. I'm right here."

"Siri…. James….." His voice crocked. His eyelids fluttered. Sirius moved closer.

"You'll be fine Remus. You'll be fine, okay?"

"O-Okay." his voice was going, along with his energy. His eyes drifted closed.

"He's asleep." said James, his voice void of emotion.

"He won't feel a thing." Sirius added. His word hit heavily, and the room slipped into a silence. Remus' breathing was shallow, but even. They gazed upon his face, trying to imagine how it would look in the morning.

"Time to go." whispered Madame Pomfrey. Slowly, they peeled away. His father was the last remaining. Madame Pomfrey grabbed his shoulder.

"John. It's time to leave."

He lowered his head to the mattress. "I won't leave him…"

"You need to be strong, Remus was always strong. It's time to leave."

John nodded, swallowing thickly. He left the room, closing the door behind him.

Only moments later, Remus' screams broke the silence, until he realized he felt no pain. Above him stood a figure.

She seemed to hover inches above the ground, with platinum hair fraying out in a none existent breeze. Her skin shimmered like iridescent pearls, pale and mystical. She was completely naked.

She didn't speak, though her voice already seemed to fill the air, a high vibrating tone. She rounded his bed, coming closer. Her hand reached out and stroked his face. Her hand was unusually warm. Remus' ears suddenly felt like they were full of cotton.

"My son." the whisper never left her mouth, but it echoed around the room as if it bounced off stone.

His entire body was warm now, overcoming the harsh winter cold, and strength filled every fiber of his body. Her hands moved in circles over his body, lingering for a moment over his heart. When her hands retracted, a crescent moon remained. His eyelids closed on their own accord, and he drifted quickly off to sleep.

The next morning, as the sun peaked over the horizon to overpower its sister moon, the sad procession of friends made their way towards the willow for what they thought would be the last time. As they neared it however, they stopped.

Remus emerged from the willow with ease. His face held healthy color, and his legs carried themselves strongly. At the sight of his friends, he ran forward.

Their gaze remained on the crescent moon burned into his pair chest, which he seemed to take no notice of.

"Remus…. What happened?" asked James, his voice filled with joy and disbelief.

"Luna loves her children." he said promptly. John ran forward and hugged his son.

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